Cries in the Night
by Pink Feline
Summary: AU. He grew increasingly fatigued and tired during the day, but restless at night. Who was the faceless man visiting his dreams, and what was it about the night that lured him into the dark and away from life? Lemons. Future LxLight.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note.**

**Warnings: Lemons, blood, violence and gore. Future LxLight.**

**Note: I'm not gonna apologise for writing another story when I already have three going. This one isn't going to be very long at all anyway. Please take note of the warnings, they are there for a reason. Also this is the first lemon I've written, though I did hold back somewhat so as to not spoil the good stuff later. But again – THIS IS FOR MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY!!**

**Cries in the Night**

A heavy dull fog clouded much of his mind, his vision blurring the scene into senseless brushes of colour. The air was sweet and thick with a mixture of foreign scents which, had his mind not been so drugged, he would have recognised and be alarmed therefore. What lucidity was left to him however, was concentrated on other things.

There was the pulsing, burning pain that flowed through his veins, mixing with his blood to create an excruciating heat beneath his skin. The sensual graze of fingers and nails over his abdomen, down his hips and thighs and over his buttocks. The hiss of cold breath over sensitive nipples and his throat, the bruising force that held him down. More so he could not ignore the steely strength and heat of the thing thrusting into him from between his parted thighs, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the foreign feeling of being repeatedly filled.

He knew what this act was, carnal, hot and wild. He also knew that his part in it was at first unwilling, succumbing to it only gradually. Still his body responded his mind floundered and he cried out as loudly as any whore in the silence that was ecstasy.

He never reached completion however, before the dream would begin to dissipate with the coming dawn. If only he was able to convince himself that this re-occurring dream was just that – a dream. However, Light knew it was not and was no better for it.

The dream was a fragment of a memory he could not remember - an event that he knew nothing off. Yet when the dream faded, so too did the tendrils of fear that clung to him unknowingly. It was quite reasonable, he would explain to himself, to be concerned about dreams of having sex with an unknown man. So too was it reasonable for him to complete himself upon awakening, his hands stroking his hardened flesh in reminiscent of another's hands.

In the last moments of pleasure when he releases, he buries the insatiable hunger that follows and stirs what was best left to lie.

The world calls, and he answers. When he leaves the bed and dresses, he knows that he cannot reveal his dreams and therefore buries them deep. They have no hold of him in the light of day, and the world moves on. No one will ever know. Should never know.

If only the detective was not constantly by his side, watching. Had the dream been but about the girl claiming him, or another, he would have easily endured the other male's scrutiny. The sheer erotic nature of his dreams and the knowledge but lack of memory that such an event had happened, brought with it a paranoia that he was unaccustomed to.

As surely as the moon ruled the night, Light knew that L would find in some way, a connection between the dreams and Kira.

L surely knew of the nature of his dreams, though they were not too frequent, but passed them off as a natural event considering Lights youth, and Light was very much inclined to leave L thinking just that.

Said man took that moment to appear at the door, his hair damp from the shower. Yes, the world called, and so did the killer by name of Kira.

It was a slow draining of power, a creeping fatigue that began to settle over his mind and limbs. The sun warmed the room, the monotonous sound of typing and ruffling papers fuelling his drowsiness. It was a slow but lasting fatigue that was steadily growing worse in the daytime. His father had already reprimanded both Ryuuzaki and he when Light was discovered napping three times during the last week.

Ryuuzaki denied depriving the teen of any sleep and Light had sedately apologised for slacking in his duties. His father's face had softened, murmuring something of Light being under so much stress and not quite ready nor deserving of it. He did not hear much of it and found that he did not care. His willpower was concentrated now on keeping his eyes open and sleep at bay.

What Light could not fathom, however, is why when night fell, he grew restless and unable to sleep. Sleep would claim him before dawn only to be woken not soon after to take the computer again and search for the elusive monster. He was finding himself growing increasingly weary and unfocused. It was foolish and inconvenient, a deep blow to his pride. If he could not deal with stress in situation like this, how could he expect to reach such a high status in the law department as to which he strived?

His brooding was interrupted when his head hit the desk in front of him, jerking him awake once more. He felt the glare of eyes on his back, and turning, found that to no surprise it was L studying him. The detective's face changed not at all when the youth's attention was fixed on him, continuing in his intense scrutiny of the suspect.

--

By the second week of his messed up sleeping routine, Light found himself succumbing to even more unpleasant side effects. There was a gnawing hunger in his gut, and yet food had never been as unappealing and bland is it was now. No matter what he ate, Light found himself unable to take more than a few bites before his throat would tighten uncomfortably, what little he consumed weighing heavily in his stomach and urging forth feelings of nausea. Never did the little he ate even take the edge off of his hunger.

Light could already detect the physical consequences of not eating or sleeping properly. A subtle loss in weight and muscle mass, a sallowing of the skin and bruising around the eyes. His hair was dulling despite its cleanliness, and his eyes were growing ever more cloudy.

Light was living off liquids now, coffee black and strong. He was bent over the computer keyboard in a style reminiscent of L's peculiar slouch, steadily ignoring the concerned glances cast his way and the carefully worded inquiries as to his health. Light could not muster up the energy to grow angry or irritated by the teams careful treading around him. Only L did not enquire, but merely watched more intensely than before.

Light frowned tiredly at the black blobs on the screen, knowing that they were words, made up of letters in a language he fully understood, and yet could make no sense of them. They simply floated and rolled over the screen in obscure and obscene patterns that was aggravating to watch. A heavy hand on his shoulder startled him from his frustration. Ryuuzaki loomed over him impassively, a barely visible eyebrow arched in interest.

"If I have Light-kun's attention now, perhaps he would be so kind as to walk with me to the kitchen?"

Light ignored the impatient tugging of the chain attached to his wrist, and slowly stood, feeling quite old and worn out. He dragged himself after the detective, past his concerned co-workers and into the sizeable but unused kitchen.

L made a beeline for the fridge and left Light to lean against the counters. Light was feeling particularly tired this day and wanted nothing more than to sink bonelessly to the floor. His pride was all that kept him from doing so.

L emerged with a plate in hand, some obscure European delicacy placed thereon. There was silence as L sucked thoughtfully on his spoon, dark eyes criticising Light.

"Light-kun does not look well at all. Is there something the matter?"

Light scowled briefly before passing a hand over his face.

"I'm fine. I just haven't been sleeping very well."

"You haven't been sleeping at all and it is severely affecting your abilities. At this moment, in your current state, you are useless to us."

L's blunt and unkind words kindled some of his usual fire and a sharp retort practically rolled from his tongue, but the look L sent him quelled it easily enough.

"You disagree with me Light? Please explain to me the subject matter of the report you had been reading for the last four hours."

Light felt a trickle of heat flowing to his cheeks in swiftly fading anger. He turned his head away stubbornly from the detective, knowing the elder man was right but unwilling to admit his own failings.

Light jumped when he felt a touch at his arm, L's finger slowly retreating. It was twice now that the detective had instigated touch, and that was why he was caught so off guard by it – maybe if he kept repeating it he would convince himself that that was the truth.

L did not speak further but merely turned on his heel and left the kitchen, Light forced to follow or land on the floor. He frowned when L led him away from the investigation room and to their own instead. Placing his dessert on the bedside table, L extracted a key from his pocket, proceeding to unlock his part of the chain. Light looked on dumbly, fatigue dulling his thoughts. He blinked as L attached the cuffs to the bedpost instead, taking up his plate and moving to the door. Noticing the incomprehension on Light's face the detective made a shooing motion with his free hand.

"Sleep. I'll be watching."

With that the detective closed and locked the door.

Light stared at the closed door for another minute before looking at the bed. Settling himself down on it, a soft contented sigh escaped him as he curled up on the bed. He did not bother to pull the sheets over himself, the sun having warmed the room to a satisfying temperature, and was dragged into a deep sleep a few seconds after.

L watched attentively from the cameras installed in the room, wondering at the teen's strange behaviour.

--

He first became aware of the dull, faintly pleasurable throb from between his legs. He was still on the bed, back pushed against the headboard, bare as the day that he was born. Looking down he found his length was already swollen with lust, the uncomfortable coiling in his loins making it unbearable to keep his legs closed. Spreading them a little to relieve some of the pressure, he was unprepared for the hand that pressed there, fingers grazing over his perineum before cupping and teasing his scrotum.

A soft low groan fell from his lips at the touch, fingers digging into the bed sheets on both pleasure and surprise. Looking around himself, Light found that once again his vision began to blur until he was only able to discern the shadow of a man leaning over him. His eyes fluttered closed as the hand fondling his balls moved up to his length, gripping it harshly before pumping up and down slowly.

His breath hitched when fingers stroked his tip, rubbing and pressing deliciously. He pushed himself into that hand, distantly knowing that the situation was wrong but unable to keep the thought amongst the pleasure of his body. A mouth came down on his chest, biting and sucking until it found his nipple to which it increased it's ministration.

He was rapidly loosing himself in the pleasure; his skin more sensitised than ever and body mindlessly bucking into the cold hand pumping him. A hand caught in his hair and jerked back roughly, bending his body back into an arch and exposing his throat. There was a breathy chuckle at his pained cry, the mouth coming down to suck on his throat. While the mouth devoured his neck, the hand pumping him stopped and started travelling down once more.

A needy moan sounded when a finger pressed against his anus, teasing around it before slipping in. Light knew what was coming, had experienced it frequently over many months now. It was the same dream, and still the sensations continued to build, his body reacting to every touch. When fingers were replaced with a much larger length, a cry ripped from his throat, teeth sinking into his neck as the man forced his way into him.

There came the familiar burning heat, fingers trailing over his lower body and the chilling breath ghosting over his sweat slicked skin. Always the same - that same elusive memory that manifested itself in his dreams. Pleasure and pain coiling at the base of his length, pushing for release…

He shot up from the bed, panting heavily, sweat slicked and painfully hard. Looking out the window, Light managed to deduce that evening was settling in. He had slept the day away, and now that night had come, could feel the restlessness start to creep in. Sitting on the edge of the bed he lowered his hands to press against the bulge between his legs. Sighing softly he continued to rub and tease through the cloth, letting his head fall back with another soft groan as he climaxed.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Light got up and started to undress. He frowned slightly at the rumpled conditions of his clothes, having slept in them, but was thankful to get them off. The air was deliciously cool against his heated skin and he took a moment to revel in it after discarding his shirt. A soft click of the lock was all warning that Light had before L entered the room.

The detective's gaze was as sharp as ever, head tilted to the side slightly as he regarded the teen. Flicking his gaze to the window and back to his suspect L considered what he had seen.

"I suppose you would like a shower now?"

Light merely nodded, grabbed a few articles of clothing and waited as the detective re-cuffed himself. Light was given leave to use the shower first, for which he was grateful. Light had grown used to having L watch him during his showers, but with the dream still fresh in his mind, he found it harder to ignore than ever.

Despite having finally slept, Light still felt abnormally fatigued, though slightly more clear headed. He took a moment to simply lean against the tile, the water beating comfortably over his skin. Unconsciously he lifted a hand to his neck, fingers brushing over the place where the man had bitten.

"Is Light-kun going to be much longer?"

Unbidden a smile crossed Lights face as the detectives' voice pushed through his thoughts. Somehow everything just seemed so bizarre, being suspected of being a mass murderer and being pleasure nightly or daily now by a man in a dream. What was happening to his life? He took hold of the soap and quickly washed himself.

"I'm done"

Stepping out of the shower, he swapped places with L who now took his turn in the shower. Light paused in his drying to examine himself in the mirror. His skin was still an unhealthy colour, paling from stress and fatigue. His cheeks and chest were starting to appear sunken, the bags under his eyes coming to rival L's.

He appeared slightly worse now than he had at the end of his confinement, a sobering thought. Light let his eyes travel back up from where he had been examining his chest, and met the dark eyes of his rival through the mirror. Something was wrong, and now not even Light could pretend otherwise. L was no fool, he could see what was right in front of him, and besides Light was well aware that all his actions were scrutinised and caught on tape. L saw everything, and sooner rather than later would demand answers.

Light had none to give.

**TBC**

**Review?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Light stretched out languidly on the bed, one hand cradling the back of his head as the other rested on the pillows above him. The ceiling provided neither distraction nor interest with which to dull his restlessness and the same could be said of the detective. L was seated on the floor, his posture almost normal for once as he scanned the screen of the computer before him. Why L had felt the need to place the computer on the floor rather than a table, Light could not find it in himself to care enough to ask. It was but one more mark on the growing list of L's peculiarities.

Thinking of the pale creature not a few feet away, Light allowed his attention to shift to said person. There was no light in the room but for the cold glare of the computer and it lent L an almost ethereal quality. L was undoubtedly pale and paired with the bags beneath his eyes and haphazardly styled hair, he made quite the convincing ghoul.

There was something appealing in that thought, this inhuman detective prowling amongst the graves. Yes, such a thought was strangely appealing and very amusing, the doppelganger in his mind's eye doing just that. L would not appear all that out of place in a graveyard at all.

The thought and the image entertained him scarce a full minute, before the tiny smile melted back into a bored grimace. His swaying moods must have been heavier than he suspected, for L sighed quietly in well-concealed irritation. When Light found himself caught in the dark eyed glare, he froze for a second and frowned back.

"Perhaps Light-kun would cease to be bored if he actually did some work. Enough time has been wasted by your nap earlier."

Light would have scowled at the man, but the urge to do so was not forthcoming. Perhaps said nap had managed to ease away some of his temper, besides, he had slept on L's order and refused to take any blame on the issue. However, it did not excuse his current disinterest in the Kira investigation, nor his inactivity in regards to it.

Light, in honest admittance, did not wish to work on the case, nor did he wasn't to spend the evening within these four walls. Actually, he would well have preferred to spend the evening outside the entire building. L would not allow such deviance and therefore his request went unspoken. His boredom spoke volumes, and Light was eerily pleased to see that L was a tad miffed by the youngers inaction.

"Twelve percent, Yagami-kun. Your refusal to work constitutes to a growing likelihood of your identity as Kira. Perhaps I expected too much from you, it appears that you are not yet ready to work in the field. I have half a mind to release you from the investigation as you are growing more a liability than even Matsuda-san."

He should have been insulted, and he would have had it been any other day. It is not to say that L's words did not affect him adversely in any way. The irritation that built from the detectives' scathing remark instead watered the restlessness that itched at his bones and made the blood throb in his veins. He wanted out, needed it.

"Unlike a certain detective, there are those of us that require some form of social activity outside a place of residence or work. Neither you nor any other person with access to this building is in anyway a sufficient remedy for such needs. I am bored and the dull monotonous routine is in no way improving my condition."

His words were heated by the coals of his frustration, banked by discipline but kept alive with every injustice forced upon him. There was silence as L regarded him with a critical eye, gaze sweeping over the teen's form calculatingly. Light raised one eyebrow in surprise as it appeared that the detective was actually considering his logic. There was no hope that L would concede to the request, for to do so would mean that the detective would be forced to accompany him, and there was no way in hell that such a thing would happen.

"Fine"

This time Light felt his features morph into one of shock, to which L simply raised a mocking brow.

"Three hours. I expect you to return within that timeframe or I shall enforce another incarceration. Should you try and run, I will have you formally arrested on suspicion of being or aiding Kira, to which I will resolve on getting answers out of you by other, less pleasant means than I have used thus far. Should you partake in any suspicious activity, or should any such activity occur during your absence, you will be pulled from the investigation and put into solitary confinement until the conclusion of the case."

To say that Light was shocked would well have been an understatement. By such terms, Light was well backed into a tight corner. L was purposefully trying to discourage Light from his endeavour, the younger man knowing full well that L would act upon his threats. If anything suspicious happened, with or without Lights participation, he would pay a hefty price for a few hours of freedom. He was not going to let such an opportunity slip by though, and with challenge in his gaze, accepted L's terms.

The insomniac merely nodded and stood slowly. Nibbling on his thumb for a few seconds, L produced a key from somewhere on his person. Again Light was surprised for he now stood without the cuff around his wrist. Light was allowed three hours of complete and utter freedom.

Light was not so naive as to not suspect L of creating or sending any safeguards. The man had vast resources at his disposal and would no doubt use them. In three hours, all L's hard work could be unravelled after all. It was a good thing then, that Light was not Kira.

Sweeping out of the room and later out of the very building, Light missed the dark expression on the super sleuths' face.

Revelling in the fresh, cool air, Light took a moment to simply enjoy being outside again. Mindful of his time limit, Light set off further into the city, mingling with the crowds and letting himself be carried with the flow. He broke away from the masses and turned into darkening streets, the dark heavy beat of music drawing him ever closer to a club few would think to find him at.

Slipping into the noise and the claustrophobia of the cramped clubroom, Light found himself awash in a new world of dizzying colour. The room was filled with various patrons of both genders; some dancing while other socialised. It was a club like any other, though Light was hardly one to frequent any. This night his blood cried for the wild abandonment that could only be achieved in an establishment such as this.

He drew quite a few glances as he made his way to the bar, appraised for the attractiveness of his form as well as the shadowing fatigue that marred his features. Light cared little for the drink placed before him, sipping at the toxic liquid as his eyes scanned the crowds. By his second glass, the alcohol was already starting to affect his mind, glazing the scene before him and allowing him graceful movement. Without anything of substance in the way of food and drink, the alcohol sang through his blood undiluted, flushing his skin with heat.

A petite dark haired woman approached him, her smile a little too wide as she caught his eye. She held a glass between her fingers, which she raised as she allowed herself to move to the beat of the music. Her eyes did not leave his as she drew ever closer. Eventually she was close enough that Light was able to smell her perfume amongst the other scent permeating the room.

Her body language was openly inviting, to which Light's responded in kind. The girl moved closer and leaned over him as she set her now empty glass down. With her soft warm body pressed to his front, Light felt the stirrings of excitement gathering low on his spine. The girl kept moving to the beat, rubbing gently against him until he took her firmly in his arms.

Dragging in her scent, he lowered his head and found her lips pressing up against his. Feeling that same strange insatiable hunger rising, Light took hold of the woman and dragged her deeper into the shadows of the club, away from watching eyes. She clung to his shoulders as he pushed her against the wall, his mouth moving down to kiss and lick at her throat.

The heat of the club had caused a faint perspiration to cover her skin, her lust now adding to the taste. She moaned and panted softly into his ear as he let his hands trail over her body, cupping her breasts briefly before moving onwards until he was caressing her thighs. Mindless with lust and knowing only the hot drumming beat of her pulse against his lips, Light bit down hard against the skin of her throat. He took no notice of her gasped surprise as blood pooled inside his mouth, the warm exotic taste of her life flowing over his tongue and down his throat. He suckled at the wound, his hands never ceasing in their exploration of her body, until reason bade him stop.

Stumbling back slightly, Light watched as the woman gazed back at him with dazed and slightly pained lust filled eyes. Blood welled from the puncture wound at her neck, though she barely took noticed of it. Disturbed and exhilarated at the same time, Light stood unsure for a moments breath. His body craved the feeling of her against him, the hunger, lust and alcohol eating away at his self-control. He wanted nothing more than to press himself once more to the woman, to taste her.

The very uncharacteristic and frightening loss of control was all that kept him from taking the woman. Recognising that things were not as they should be, that continuing on would most likely end badly, Light slipped back into the crowd. Whether she tried to follow, he did not know, for he left the club then without once looking back.

The night was brighter around him now, blurred at the edges until the scene became no more than a smear of colour. He had enough mind left to know that time was running out, and that he had best return to the headquarters lest L think he was up to something.

It was only when he stumbled from the elevator into a thankfully empty room, that Light managed to even begin to take in the rather strange encounter. Finding his way to the kitchen, Light threw the cupboard doors open in search for a glass. At last finding one, he filled it with water, which he promptly drank in just a few gulps. Filling it once more, he put his hands on the edge of the sink and bent his head in an effort to stabilise himself.

Fragments of foggy memory were all that played in his head, the woman's perfume and the soft curves of her breasts as she had leaned against him. Her face he could not remember, and if she had at anytime introduced herself he could not know. What fragment was clearest of the night though, was the taste and the heat of her blood on his tongue.

In his half-intoxicated state, he could not fathom why that single piece of memory stirred such raging hunger and fear in him. Gulping back the water once more, Light turned and startled as he came face to face with the detective.

L did not speak but merely observed the youth, thumb on lip, with an indiscernible expression. Light blinked as he tried to focus on the pale face of the creature that claimed to be his friend. There was no kindness in the other's gaze, nor concern or even interest. Irritation bubbled forth under the alcohol's direction and the man yet to speak!

"Yagami-kun is intoxicated. I was unaware that you could be so careless as to overdo the limits of your tolerance. You will not be exempt from work due to the hangover awaiting you, come morning, and I will not see you slack of again. If you continue to make yourself a liability to this case, I will have to take action. I hope you understand."

The flat unchanging tones of the elder man's voice stirred the irritation into a boiling mass that began to press against his ribs to an almost painful extent.

At times it was so easy to loathe this man, for which Light could not blame Kira in wanting the man dead. The way he would often belittle Light, even in the guise of complements, as if he was somehow inferior to the detective. When every little movement he made was scrutinised, his words examined, his achievements picked apart and his personality and habits attacked, Light could do nothing but hate.

So why then, in the silence that followed the detectives words, did L's breath draw him closer? Why, when the unique scent that was L found his senses, did it excite in him the same hunger as what had made him lose control so briefly in the club? Why did the idea of _tasting _L inspire such erotic and lustful feelings that stirred heat in his loins?

There were many questions to ask though he was in no mind to consider them fully. Without any memory of doing so, Light had pushed the detective against the fridge, pinning the man's body with his own. L made no reaction other than to tense up, even as Lights breath ghosted over his neck. Neither made a sound or further movement, caught up in the strangeness of the situation and what may have led to it. When he concentrated, Light could hear as well as feel the rhythmic beat of the detective's pulse. Slow and steady. Undeniably tempting.

With a soft grunt, Light pushed himself back and away from the detective, leaving the kitchen and heading to the bedroom. L followed like a shadow, eyes trained on the youth with an unnerving intensity that was ignored though practise.

No more was spoken that night as Light was once more bound to the eccentric, finally crawling into bed. He slipped away into sleep quickly, under the watchful eye of L. When morning would come, Light would make no word of complaint but would suffer the results of his night in silence. All would be well and normal with a world terrorised by Kira, if only the boy would be able to stay awake. L's threats were good at least in inspiring some motivation, and defiance in letting the weakness of his body show.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Obviously something is wrong! You can't tell me Ryuuzaki that you haven't noticed the changes in him? He obviously isn't sleeping well, what with him dozing off every ten minutes, and not to mention that he is starting to loose a good deal of weight!"

"I understand Yagami-san, but the decision is Light's. Regardless as to whether he remains working on the investigation or not, I cannot allow him out of my sight…"

"When will you stop suspecting him? He isn't Kira! When will you see this?

"When there is sufficient evidence to clear your son's name…"

"And working him to the bone is getting evidence!? Light is not well! He is still a child and can't be expected to deal with this amount of stress and accusation without negative effect!"

"If Yagami-san would stop interrupting me and calm down. It was Light's decision to work on this case. It was he who turned himself in due to his belief that he might be Kira and it is now for his own pride and peace of mind that he works to prove his innocence. Light-kun is no longer a child and can be expected to make his own decisions. If it was Light-kun's wish to remove himself from the investigation, I would not contest his choice, though as I stated earlier I would still have to keep him by my side regardless until Kira is apprehended and his name cleared."

Sigh.

"We both know Light's pride will not have him to admit weakness, that he is unwell and need of a break. Left to himself he would work himself until he drops. He respects you, Ryuuzaki. He will do as you say even though he may protest against it."

"I do not believe that forcing Light-kun from the investigation would help his condition any, but may actually make it worse if stress is indeed what is causing his odd behaviour. If it will ease your mind I shall speak with Light and come to a compromise."

Sigh.

"I suppose I will have to accept that. Thank you."

--0--

Distantly he could hear his name being called, as could he feel the incessant tugging at his wrist. Something or someone was trying to gain his attention, trying for a response that he could not seem to give. The blanket of sleep was too heavy, too secure to be so easily thrown aside and roused. When the voice ceased to speak his name, Light burrowed even deeper into the warmth of the bed and the mindless comfort of slumber. Ignorant of the workings of the waking world, he slept without dreams.

He first became aware of the cooling air on his warm skin, the rhythmic tapping of keys in the growing gloom. Stretching, Light felt the satisfaction and content of his body after a good rest. The sound of tapping keys quietened next to him, the weight of dark eyes falling on him. He paid the detective no mind and stood, tugging at the chain.

Looking at the detective, Light tugged harder.

"Bath"

L stayed seated, eyes boring into Light's own with an unidentifiable expression that were a little disconcerting, and Light felt, a little unfair. A bath was not too much to ask for, now was it?

Finally L stood with a soft sigh that Light knew well meant irritation. The youth led the way to the bathroom and filled the bath, busying himself with his clothes, pulling them off and folding them neatly to one side.

He stepped into the steaming bath and with a contented sigh sunk neck deep in the water. Light did not spare much thought to the detective whom had taken a seat on the toilet and was even now watching him. Instead he contentedly soaked himself, feeling more relaxed than he had felt for a very long time. He briefly wondered as to the reason for his sudden ease, but dismissed it for the moment.

Silence echoed in the room, Light steadily growing more aware of L's piercing gaze. Turning his head he caught the detective's eyes with his own. Lifting one eyebrow questioningly he regarded the dark haired man.

"Is something the matter Ryuuzaki-kun?"

Dark eyes searched his face, observing.

"Light-kun has been asleep for the entire day."

Light blinked in surprise, startled with the revelation. No wonder he felt so well rested! Already he could hear the silent accusations from L and scowled.

"Well, why didn't you wake me?"

This time it was L who raised one hidden eyebrow, regarding Light with another unidentifiable expression.

"It was not for lack of trying, I assure you."

Light stared back at the detective, growing slightly suspicious when no accusations or threats came his way. He sat up, turning his torso so that he could look L full in the face. L regarded him back, nibbling on his thumb contemplatively. After much staring, Light caught sight of the slightest flicker in normally blank eyes. Before he could examine any closer, the detective spoke.

"In the interest of Light-kun's ongoing mental and physical health, you are to be temporarily dismissed from the Kira case."

Light stared at L in shock, failing to hide the expression behind his usually composed mask. L had known that the percentage of Light reacting violently to the decision was very high, yet he blinked in surprise when once more he was pinned to a wall by Light. A very naked and wet Light. The boy could move fast when he wanted to.

One hand had curled around the detective's throat, the other against the wall next to L's head. Angry brown eyes glared at him from a face that was still shadowed by fatigue. Seeing L so calm only served to further enrage Light, his own sense of calm long gone.

However, logic and thought started filtering past the anger, thoughts over the last couple of weeks. What was it that had made him angry? It was not like he felt any interest currently in the Kira case; in fact, he had hardly contributed much to it in the last week at all. No, it was the suggestion that Light was mentally and physically weak that had enraged him.

Did they not think that he could handle it? Did they think him some dim-witted and fragile child? How that very thought grated on his very pride and being!

Pressing himself fully against the detective and grabbing a fistful of hair, Light brought his mouth to the detectives ear. He was briefly distracted by the delicious heat of the detective's body, the hard planes of that lean body against his own. The pulse that played beneath that pale throat, the same throat that was exposed to him. It took a great deal of effort to concentrate on speaking and not sucking and biting that lovely pale column.

"Fine" he breathed through gritted teeth.

Sensing the brief spike in the detective's pulse, Light drew back lest he do something foolish. L turned dark, suspicious eyes on him. The air had grown noticeably tense, Light fighting for control over his hormones and L wary of the teen's quick and generally calm acceptance of being pulled from the investigation. L had been expecting a bit more of a fight, and was now more concerned as to what the other was planning.

Stepping further away from L, Light turned to get his clothing. He ignored the detective, as he dressed, not bothering to towel himself dry. L's clothes had done a pretty good job of it, and whatever moisture had remained had evaporated. His back was still a little damp but he ignored it as he tugged on his shirt, holding his wrist out briefly for the handcuff to be removed. Cuffed as soon as he was ready, the pair returned to their room.

The tense air did not fade, Light taking a seat on the bed as L returned to the computer that still occupied the floor.

"So what will I be doing then? Obviously you are not going to let me go anywhere."

L glanced back at him before turning his attention to the computer once more, bony fingers flying over the keyboard as he typed.

"Indeed. You will be continuing your To-Oh studies. I have managed to arrange for your assignments to be done online. You have quite a bit to catch up on so you should have plenty to keep you occupied."

Light stretched out on the bed and took to watching the detective for lack of anything to do. Outside the night was dark, a think sickle of a moon visible. In the silence and with nothing to do, Light found himself grow once more sensitive to the detective's presence.

Again that unique scent that was L drew him in, the memory of his body against his own drawing out that strange hunger that had seemed to wake only during and after certain 'dreams'. Light was well aware, however, of who this man was. He was L. L was justice. L was cold, unemotional. Practical. Unfortunately that knowledge only served to increase the want. Light wanted to touch the detective. He wanted to taste him. He wanted…and he shouldn't, because it was L.

If he dared approach the detective and instigated any kind of intimacy, a physically violent reaction was practically a given. There was no way that L would stand to be touched, by a Kira suspect least of all.

Warmth assailed him then, spreading beneath his skin. Hands ghosted over his side, the mattress behind him dipping under a new weight. Glancing behind him, Light found himself alone on the bed, and yet he felt the hands on his body. L was concentrating on the computer and seemed unaware of Light's surprise.

The touch of the ghostly hands was familiar, an element from his dreams that were really a memory, if only he could remember. He sighed softly as fingers ghosted over his chest, shivering as ripples of pleasure played over his skin. With this sinful act happening while awake, with L but a few feet away, Light struggled to control his reactions. Thankfully the hands kept to caressing only, but the hunger intensified under the touches.

The pleasure flowed and pooled in his groin, the evidence of his lust growing with each caress. Turning over on the bed so that his back faced the detective, he let his hand travel down his body to the heat between his legs. Oh, there was no doubt that the surveillance cameras would record this, but it was a natural act for someone his age. It was not his fault that he had to masturbate while in the presence of the world's greatest detective; even he had not that amount of control over his body.

Or that is what it would appear to be on camera.

Yes, Light was anything but comfortable doing it in the same room, but they were both guys so surely L would think nothing of it. And the persistent touch of the ghost hands made it impossible to ignore the urge.

His hand slid beneath his trousers, past the barrier of his boxers to curl around his stiff sex. His eyes closed at that first pleasurable touch, his lips locking together to prevent any discriminating sound from escaping. Slowly he moved his hand, rubbing and pressing over the tip and down the sides. He controlled his breathing as much as he could, long slow breaths in and soft exhalations. He heard nothing from L's side, only the tapping of keys. L probably knew what he was doing and was ignoring it to give Light the illusion of privacy.

Fine with him.

_"Light…"_

The voice that breathed his name so sensually in his ear did not belong to L, nor anyone that he could put a face to. Ghostly fingers played over his cheeks, running down the length of his neck. Yes, he knew whom those incredible hands belonged to. That same faceless entity that gave him such unwanted pleasure, that disturbed his dreams to partake in wild carnal acts that made him flounder uncertainly in the aftermath.

Could he now not even escape the man even in waking?

Icy breath swept over his throat, an invisible hand trailing down his arm and enveloping the hand that pleasured him. His hand had sped up at the new stimulus and he no longer cared if the detective heard him anymore. All he cared for was reaching completion, to have the pleasure in his body spill over.

_"Light"_

He gasped softly as his seed spilled over his hand, pleasure fading into contented satisfaction. Grabbing tissues from the bedside table he wiped his hand. He curled up further on the bed and basked in the afterglow, closing his eyes. He did not want to turn, to see L watching him. He did not want to openly admit to what he had just done. He would ignore it, and he would ignore L, who strangely enough had been the source of the original forming of lust.

The hands left him, his body strangely cold with their absence.

He could almost hear the incessant laughing of fate as his life kept on spinning out of control. Surely this strange desire was the effect of Stockholm Syndrome. What sane person would otherwise start to lust after the one person who was out to prove them a murderer and send them off for execution?

Light was starting to lose sight of himself. His wants and desires were now mysterious to him. He was becoming unidentifiable even to himself.

Light could not stop the heavy sigh that dragged from his chest, nor the sharp pain of hunger that followed. Now that his body had been sated with pleasure, it cried out for substance. He frowned.

"Is Light-kun hungry?"

Great, if L could hear his stomach grumble then there was no doubt at all that he had heard him in his previous activity.

He felt a tugging at his wrist and when he turned, found L looking at him from the direction of the door. With a long-suffering sigh he stood, automatically fixing his hair and clothing to a satisfactory degree. He was not at all surprised when L led him to the kitchen, only when an apple was pushed under his nose. Staring at the smooth red skin of the fruit, he took it without a word of thanks.

He leaned against the counter as he was oft to do when L searched the pantry for treats of his own. A bag of chocolate-chip cookies was the snack of choice and for the first few minutes, L's munching was the only sound.

Light toyed with the apple in his hand, turning it around and watching the reflections of the light cast of its ruby surface. The silence was uncomfortable, Light avoiding meeting the detective's eyes even as he felt their familiar weight. Sensing that L was waiting for something, he brought the apple to his lips and bit into the flesh. Sweet juice ran over his tongue and down his throat and he struggled to swallow that first bite. No matter his hunger, when he ate his body refused it. His lip curled in disgust and was about to throw it away when a hand caught his wrist. Surprised he looked up and was caught in large dark eyes, very much aware of the proximity of the other. The hand on his wrist guided his hand back up, bringing the apple back to his lips and keeping it there.

"Eat"

It was an order, no mistaking that, and he complied without resistance. Slowly he took another bite, forcing himself to swallow, all the while caught up in the other's gaze. Only when L was satisfied that Light would continue to eat did he release his grip and step back. Light almost followed, before he became aware of himself and stopped.

They ate in silence, Light once more avoiding the other's gaze. When at last both were finished, they turned to the investigation area. Seated at a computer, L instructed him to start working on his assignments, taking a seat close by. The rest of the night was spent in silence.

**TBC**

**Thank You to those who reviewed the last chapters. Your comments are greatly appreciated.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Sunlight filtered into the room, it's warmth a comfortable blanket that made work tedious. Well, not that Light was working. Instead the teen was tucked into his side of the bed, the blankets cocooned around his shivering form so that only the reddish brown of his hair could be seen.

For reasons unknown, despite the heat of the sun and despite the weight of his blankets, Light was freezing. Suitably dressed for bed, he should not have been cold and yet he was. He wondered idly to himself, between bouts of uncontrollable shivers, whether he was sick. It was not normal for one's body temperature to drop, and then usually it was a major health concern.

Only, Light had admitted enough weakness. He felt physically fine, if you ignored the bouts of insomnia, tiredness, loss of appetite and loss of interests.

He held back a tired sigh. How could he sleep when his body felt as though it was submerged in a tub of ice? His teeth hurt from clenching them, a barrier against the telltale sound of chattering teeth. The chill of his body tired him out more than he already was, yet sleep would not come.

He turned carefully by rolling onto his other side, the blankets tucked too tightly around him to fall away with the movement. With the new angle, Light was able to observe the back of L's dark unruly head. The detective was predictably sitting on the floor by his computer, typing away. Light could not really see why, it's not like any new clues had been revealed on the mystery that was Kira. Still, he was not going to say anything.

Another sigh tried to force its way past his defences and he pulled it back with some force. Glaring at L, Lights attention was caught by the barest shimmer of light surrounding the detective. Almost like a red haze that was so faint that it was just barely visible, and he had to squint to even see that much. With renewed interest, Light scooted closer to L's side of the bed, again through rolling. He spared no thought to his ridiculous behaviour. He was cold, dammit, and hell itself could not part him from the blankets. He stopped only when he came to the edge, L two arm lengths away from his position on the bed.

Examining his dark haired friend once more, Light looked again for that soft red haze. He blinked when he found it, little tendrils of red that floated over the other's form. He realised now what it was.

Heat.

The detective was warm, and radiating heat.

Light's eyes narrowed in contemplation. L had made no indication or acknowledgement of Light's movements, indeed the detective could be said to be ignoring him. They had not fought; Light was too tired for that. Instead Light had decided to ignore the rest of the investigation team, L included. The good old fashioned silent treatment – a childish ploy. Light had easily concluded that the team, especially his father, had been part of his 'temporary' dismissal from the Kira case. If they all thought him weak and cared not for his help, well then fine. While he could not leave due to his chained status, he was more than able to set up an invisible wall between him and all others. To him, for the moment, they did not exist. Ah the powers of the mind, to be able to so wilfully deny the existence of others.

True to childish form, L had retaliated with a silence of his own. Two could play at that game after all, and it just so happened that they were both very childish individuals.

Light considered this now as he examined the detective. It was tempting, this thought in his head, but would L stand for it? Probably not, but Light was cold, tired, hungry and getting desperate. With a last decisive nod to himself, Light slowly and methodically began unwrapping himself from his comfortable coffin. It took some time admittedly, as his arms had been well pinned by the blankets to his own thinning frame. But at last he was free, only to feel a new level of cold.

Standing up, Light grabbed the blankets and draped it over his shoulders like a thick mantle and shuffled towards the unsuspecting living, breathing heater.

In his tiring and cold state, Light was only vaguely aware of the little jump on L's part when the teen seated himself behind the detective, moulding his chilled body around the warmth that was L. With his chest pressed firmly against that lovely pale back, Light let his arms curl around L's waist and settled his forehead against an equally pale shoulder. The fabric of L's plain white shirt was worn soft with age, and L was indeed like a furnace, a very comfortable combination.

Caring little for L's reaction, the tenseness of his form and unable to see that surprise in dark eyes, Light finally managed to slip into sleep in a scarce few seconds.

To say that Light had caught L by surprise was quite an understatement. L had been aware of Lights movements on the bed, the chain linking them a dead give away, and while he was curious as to why the boy simply did not go to sleep, had thought little of it. He had not expected such full bodily contact with his 'friend', or any at all for that matter. Anyone with brains could see that Light was not an affectionate person and generally kept physical contact with others at a bare minimum.

Not quite certain yet what to make of the situation, L's mind proceeded to another matter. Light's body was chillingly cold. A serious symptom among others that had to be considered, and an observation he sent to Watari. He took a moment to consider all other symptoms that Light had shown over the course of the past two weeks. There were plenty of possible reasons or medical ailments that matched the symptoms, but nothing quite seemed to hit the nail on the head, so to speak.

With his observations sent, L finished his work and closed his documents. With some time, patience and a little gentleness, L managed to extract himself from Light's grip. He crouched down and slowly hauled Light up, half dragging him back to the bed, not sure whether to be thankful that the younger did not wake. Settling his friend on his own side of the bed, he gently pulled the covers back over his shivering body. When that was done, L left briefly only to return with his laptop.

Taking a seat on the bed, he shuffled under the covers and set to work on his laptop. Almost immediately Light had turned and wrapped himself around the detective's sitting form once more. Gazing down at the other for a moment, L turned his gaze to his laptop and returned to his work.

-()-

Lights flickered and blurred amongst towering shadows. Streams of people passed him, faceless, colorless entities that came and faded into the night. He stood apart from the crowd, facing him from a span of but a few feet.

Light squinted against the gloom, hoping to catch a sight of the man's face. He knew, somehow, that this was his nightly visitor. This was the man who touched him so intimately at night, the one who caressed his body with cold fingers and who whispered his name in lust. Excitement coursed through his body at the knowledge, edged with the sharp blades of desire. If only he could see…

He stepped forward by no will of his own. He seemed drawn to the other, and after a moment's consideration he let instinct guide him. The world faded further, people and lights no more than ribbons of color stretching into infinity. The steady beat of a living heart filled the silence, pounding and speeding into a crescendo as he neared. Pain started to blossom within his chest, a crippling force that hugged his heart. A painful embrace. He did not remember doing so, but Light had fallen to his knees, doubled over in pain as his hands clutched futilely at his chest.

A sudden hush fell with the silencing of that pounding heart, a last painful gasp stolen away from his trembling lips. A cold hand cradled his chin and brought his face up, but Light could not see. His vision was dotted with blackness that slowly grew. Even so he knew who it was that pressed their lips against his in such an oddly gentle touch. His lips were as cold as his hands, his face still a mystery despite the proximity.

All feeling left him and he was allowed to fall into the darkness.

-()-

Light woke to the rhythmic pulse of a heartbeat, the heat and physical features of a chest rising and falling, alerting him to the nature of his pillow. Keeping his muscles lax, he went over his memories of earlier to find how he had come to be in a bed, with his head resting against what could only be L's chest. He could only conclude that he had been moved during sleep.

He did not pull away from the detective, instead relishing the heat that poured from his friend. He was still cold and shivers were starting to wrack over his form. He tightened his hold around the detective's waist, curling his body further into L's sides in an attempt to find more warmth. He felt L shift beneath him, and Light could admit to himself that it was more than cold that prevented him from moving away. Light did not really wish to look L in the face right now, not with the somewhat awkward position they were in. So he would ignore it until L himself forces him to confront it.

Besides, L could easily have removed him by force if he was truly adverse to it.

Glancing around the room from his position, light managed to surmise that it was quite early in the morning, the sky beyond the windows still black with night. His thoughts briefly shifted to why the detective had not awoken him to start working, before he was reminded that he was no longer on the Kira case. He found that he did not mind it so much.

L's chest was rising and falling steadily, but not steadily enough to be asleep. So Light wondered why L had not shaken him away yet, for surely he knew that Light was awake. Perhaps, despite his general lack of tact or even because thereof, L was just as reluctant as he to face the potentially awkward situation. Or he was simply waiting for Light to acknowledge him.

Light frowned at that. Was he truly acting the fool by stubbornly refusing to acknowledge L and their lack of personal space? Would it not simply do his pride better by getting this over with as quickly and quietly as possible? The longer he procrastinated and clung to L, after all, the more embarrassing and awkward it would be. Strangely or not, Light was unwilling to relinquish his hold on the other. Because the instinctual and physical side of him relished the position because L was _warm_.

So which to win? His mind or his body?

During his internal struggle, the youth glanced upward and into the face of L. Their eyes caught and Light found the answer to his dilemma.

L's face was carefully blank, his body deceptively relaxed. Light examined the pale face of his makeshift pillow thoughtfully.

How to deal with the situation?

"You're warm"

Light blinked as L lifted one eyebrow in surprised inquiry. What a strange statement to make, one that Light was not so sure was what his first words should have been. Having enough of it, Light reluctantly let go of the other's body and sat up. Immediately he was assaulted by the cold and had to stop himself from curling in on himself. With some effort he flung his quivering legs over the side of the bed and stood. He went to turn only to find L already striding towards the door.

Following, Light found that the detective was heading towards the bathroom, something of a relief to him. There would be nothing better than a hot bath right now. He had barely stepped through the door when water started to fill the porcelain tub, thanks to L. Light was pushed towards the shower, not too roughly as to cause him to stumble and fall, but enough to get the hint across.

Light eyed L as the detective opened the bathroom door and stuck his head out. He heard soft murmuring, L was speaking with someone. Watari most likely, and with that Light began to strip with some reluctance. L closed the door and came to his side, unlocking the cuff quickly so that Light could remove his shirt. Strangely he did not re-attach it.

With L so boldly watching him, Light had to grit his teeth to stop from shivering. He did not want the detective to know how cold he was, for which he blamed his foolish pride. There was no weakness in being cold and L could not pin him being Kira on it.

He sat down on the little wooden stool and quickly set to scrubbing himself clean. The water from the shower was warm, but the touch of it was fleeting and did not warm him. Rinsing the soap from his body he stood and quickly slipped into the waiting bath.

He let out a soft sigh as he sank into the heated water, relishing in the chill banishing warmth. He slipped down until his chin touched the water, leaning back his head and closing his eyes. He was content for a minute or two when that invasive cold crept into his body once more. The water was not enough.

He wasn't fully aware that he had curled into a ball until his forehead rested on his knees. He shivered and let out a tired moan that almost sounded depressed. He could not remember what it felt like to be warm except for the fleeting remembrances of the detective's heat.

Light did not jump nor make any sign of startlement when he felt a body slipping in behind him. Slowly, almost timidly, long pale arms drew him back until Light's back hit the other's chest. Long pale legs rested on either side of him, pressed against his own. A reversal in position to the one earlier that day when Light had wrapped himself around L.

With that in mind, Light recognised that this was an attempt on L's part to warm him up. After all, it had helped before. In that knowledge, Light relaxed and uncurled himself, letting L's arms wrap around him and hold him up.

L was completely naked and his skin burned against his own, but Light was not bothered. Instead he took to simply enjoying it, his head cradled between L's shoulder and neck once more. After a while though he became a little uncomfortable at the silence that surrounded them. Considering carefully the topic of choice, Light ventured…

"What have you been working on? There haven't been any more clues on Kira for a while now."

He felt L tense under him and a tense moment of silence followed before L finally murmured.

"To the contrary. Light-kun's probability of being Kira has risen by three percent over the last week."

It was Light's turn to tense and his voice was guarded when he replied.

"I fail to see what I have done recently that was Kira-like or even suspicious."

"Ah, but you see, you forget the night you went out."

"Nothing happened! There was no suspicious activity and I came back well in the timeframe you had set!"

"Exactly my point, Light-kun. Nothing happened. It seems rather strange that Kira would so graciously cease killing in the same timeframe that you went out, especially considering the consequences that would have followed had he continued his usual pattern of killing."

Light closed his eyes tiredly, his body going limp in the detective's grasp. It was as though all the energy had left him.

Kira.

Again self-doubt began nibbling at his tired mind. Was he the self-proclaimed god, Kira? What and who was the man in his dreams and was he perhaps somehow connected? Was the theory that Kira had controlled Light in any way true? Or was he perhaps being framed as he had claimed during his confinement?

Questions, questions and no answers in sight. Too tired to wrestle with these problems, he forcefully cast them aside and convinced himself to relax. Three percent wasn't much.

Stuck once more in an uncomfortable silence, Light's attention was drawn to just how intimate their position really was. His eyes opened and ran along the pale flesh of the other's thigh, knee and calves, examining their length despite the water's distortion. He then trailed his eyes down to the arms that hugged him from behind, pale and thin as the rest of the detective.

A new hypersensitivity swept over his own skin, as he became more aware than ever of the man's chest and lower region pressed against his back and buttocks. He sniffed softly and was met by the haunting scent he now associated with L. His eyes slid closed slowly as pleasure began tingling down his spine and through his body. He listened and heard the steady beat of the other's heart…_pa-dum_…_pa-dum…pa-dum…_

The ever-present hunger came raging back, heightening his senses further. He shifted himself subtly up against the man at his back, putting a little more pressure on the other. He was satisfied to hear a skip in the beat of L's pulse and curled his back slightly in response.

"Light-kun…"

Ignoring the inquiry in that lovely deep voice, Light put his right hand to the task of caressing the inner flesh of the lovely pale thigh that caged him in the detective's embrace. He felt the muscle ripple beneath his fingers, the soft audible pulse skipping once more in response. L's hand came away from Light's chest in a move to stop the wandering hand. Only Light took that moment to move away and twist so that he was straddling the other's hips and looking at him face to face.

The detective was watching him with wide, cautious eyes, suspicious as to the youth's attentions. Light did not bother letting his intentions be known and dipped his head forward while pressing his body against L's. He sealed his mouth over the other's neck, right above the pulse as his hand caught a fistful of hair, pulling L's head back for better access. His remaining hand travelled down the expanse of that slim chest, over the nipple, the ribs and down to the hips of his companion.

He was only dimly aware of the shudder coursing through L's trapped body, the soft surprised and repressed gasp that followed. He knew only the sweet taste of warm clean skin, the intoxicating skin and the rapidly speeding pulse that the detective could not hide.

He pushed his hips down against L's and groaned deeply at the pleasure that it brought. L's hands were at his hips and grasping at his wandering hand, speaking words that Light could not hear. Hunger and strange new instinct drove him onwards as he finally sank teeth into that tender flesh. Light could not control the low deep moan that vibrated through his chest when sweet blood began to pool in his mouth. Who knew that the reclusive hard-hearted man could taste to damn sweet!

He suckled, drunk on the sweet wine that flowed through the detective's veins, sighing his pleasure. It was only when he noticed the body beneath his going limp that Light began taking notice of his surroundings once more. The detective had managed to scratch at his hips until blood trickled from the tracks, the pain only now being registered. With the sudden knowledge of what he was doing hitting him, Light pulled his mouth away from his pale companion, gazing in horror at his pale unmoving form.

Blood trickled down the neck wound and over L's chest. Terrified over his actions, Light sprang from the bathtub and backing away towards the door. L did not move, his head resting against the tub edge with closed eyes. He had killed L! Light had killed L. Light was going to be charged and executed for being Kira, because he had killed L. He shook, his body wracked with horrified shudders.

In panic he hastily dressed in the clothes he had slept in, wishing and wanting to run away as fast as he could. So he did.

Leaving the detective in the bath, Light turned and ran, through the hallways and down the stairs. His mind was a mess and it was only when he stumbled out onto the street that he began to even wonder why he had not been stopped by Watari. Not waiting long enough to figure it out, Light took to running once more, desperate to get away and not caring to think of a destination.

Despite the late hour, the streets remained busy with late night socialisers and other more questionable practices. Light ignored them all as he ran, wanting only to escape the image of L, the taste of his blood and the knowledge of what he did. No matter how far he ran though, he knew that he could not escape the inevitable.

**TBC**

**Well, there you go. One of my longest chapters ever written, which isn't really saying much. Anyway hope you enjoyed! Also THANK YOU to the lovelies who reviewed thus far, I am suddenly quite enjoying writing this again and you all must have something to do with it!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

When at last Light was able to reign in his panic, he stopped and leaned against a wall, panting heavily. He closed his eyes as he took a moment to simply breathe and when his head cleared at last he began to think. Considering his options, he looked around at his surroundings. He recognised the area to be close to his home. Instinct must have been guiding him to the one place he had always thought himself safe in until recently. His house – his room.

But it wasn't safe there anymore. L had invaded that small sanctuary, and so would the people who would come after him. None the less, that was what his next destination was to be. He had to gather a few things, if he was to be on the run, as the clothes on his back could only do so much and last so long. He needed money most of all. With some plan in mind, the distressed teen set forth.

He fought with himself the entire way. All his life he had been taught the ideals of justice. He had learned to hate thieves, rapists, and drug traffickers and not to mention – murderers. He had killed L, so he was a murderer now wasn't he? But he hadn't meant to do it! He hadn't wanted to kill the detective, especially not after the peculiar consideration that he had been shown that same night.

He tried to force the memories and their corresponding emotions to the back of his mind. He would deal with that later, when he was offered even the smallest amount of safety.

Considering the early hour, his house was dark and quiet, the occupants clearly still asleep. Light did not sigh in relief but eased his way into the house, gliding through the dark, up the stairs and to his own door. He paused. It had been a while since he had set foot in his room, and this was probably to be the last time. The last time he would be in his house, in the presence of his family though they knew it not. Berating himself for the moment of sentimentality, he pushed his door open as quietly as possible.

He did not turn on the light; his night vision made it easy enough to see. He wasted no time in grabbing a small bag and stuffing a few items of clothing therein. He found his wallet in the drawer, and when he checked inside found that his money was still there. He had no use for it from the moment he had been confined, and his father must have returned it here for him. He was thankful for it considering he had not bothered to get any of his possessions when he had fled HQ.

Lastly he quickly changed into a new set of clothes. He would draw more attention if he continued out in the street in his pjs. With everything set to go, Light was suddenly bombarded with his own conscious once more in that small gap of inactivity. He slid down one wall and put his head in his hands.

He had killed.

Not just anyone either. He had killed L, and now he was running like a coward. He was becoming what he despised. Instead of running he should be turning himself in, that was the moral thing to do. But Light hadn't meant to do it, he wasn't even sure what had possessed him to do it. He didn't want to go to jail – he didn't want that scar over everything he had achieved in his life. He was a top student of Japan, his future was promising and yet he had been a Kira suspect. And now he had killed.

He curled tighter in on himself as his thoughts taunted him.

Coward.

Murderer.

Kira?

His fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the strands in distress.

What to do?

Light tried to still his rapid breathing, but he could not. He was shaking; he was angry and upset. He was uncertain and terrified. For once he simply could not think on how to proceed. He closed his eyes, wishing for it to be a dream, and without his knowledge he quietly slipped into sleep.

_A gentle breeze played over his face, the scent of many flowers curling around him and waking his senses. Looking around he found himself within a garden, leaves of emerald green spotted by varying hues of pinks, yellows, purples and whites stretching and twining into the landscape that stretched as far as his eyes could see. The sky above was a deep shade of cobalt blue, blemished by patches of turquoise and white. There was no sun or moon to mark the time, though there was light enough, and even shadows appeared peculiarly absent._

_Light walked, and walked still until he could make out a figure ahead on his path. Again the man remained faceless, his form tall and dark against the bright colours of nature. As Light neared he found his gaze pulled down to an object clasped in the stranger's hands. It was solid, unrelenting black and rectangular in shape. A book, he thought, though he could not say for certain._

_Coming to a stop but a few feet from the faceless stranger, Light found his gaze firmly locked onto the black objects, his eyes unresponsive to the demands he made. He did not care for the object but wished to catch a glimpse of the face of the man haunting his dreams, yet his eyes would not move._

_His body shifted, his arm rising as though by the skilful manipulation of a puppet master pulling on his strings, reaching for that unforgiving shape. As his fingers grazed the object, his body was infused with an unrelenting and paralysing cold. The colours around him seemed to swirl and blend into an ugly mess, pulling and draining into the black surface of the book as though it was being sucked in. Like paint from a canvas, all colour fled and was consumed by that horrible black book leaving behind a colourless and barren wasteland._

_Light caught but a mere glance of it before he felt an invisible force pulling him too and all too suddenly the small black book became a large hungry void. Fear rattled him, instinct crying out_

It was a bone deep chill and painfully stiff neck that woke him. The weak light from an early sun dancing on the floor at his feet. He stared at the beams of light bemusedly before the situation finally clicked in his mind. It was morning. He had slept through the night. Panic flared back into life, his heart playing an unsteady skipping beat that left him gasping for breath.

His limbs jerked at the unexpected mental assault and he would have jumped up had his legs not been so stiff and sore. His arms felt weak as he tried to use them to lever himself up, and when at last he stood, he was nearly floored again by a sudden wave of disorientation and nausea.

If this was what murderers felt like after killing, he could not fathom how some managed to do so repeatedly. He felt thoroughly dirty and weak – a mess.

Shivers began wracking his body in response to a physical and emotional chill that he could not ward off. Weakness and hunger nibbled at his body as well as exhaustion, robbing him of energy that he was in desperate need of. He moved towards the door in a slow shuffle, his feet dragging. He had to get out. He had to escape. He reached the door and only then remembered the small duffel bag he had packed with his necessities. Looking back he saw it sitting at the foot of his bed, a terrible distance from the door.

He had to go get it, or he would not survive long. Stumbling, Light made his way to the bed and collapsed half way. His body was so heavy and tired. Breathing hard and covered in a cold sweat, Light slipped back into the unconscious.

* * *

His body felt strangely weightless, his limbs unattached. With such awareness came a sudden flood of pain, centring in his head and neck. With a weak groan he sat up, lukewarm water caressing his naked form. He wondered how he came to be in such a position, for truly he had never fallen asleep in the bath. No, indeed as an insomniac that was quite low on probability.

Hands touched his shoulder briefly and he turned to trace them to the gently concerned face of his assistant Watari. Slowly and with much care he eased himself out of the bath and was quickly engulfed in a large soft towel. Still feeling a little disorientated, L let Watari guide him and fuss over him, his mind already on the strange events that had transpired before.

What had possessed him to climb into the bath with the Yagami teen? Well, that was somewhat of a mystery in itself. Perhaps it was that stunted part of himself that recognised and felt compassion for the misery the teen appeared to be immersed in. It was not difficult to notice the boy's shivering, nor the depression in normally warm eyes.

So then what was wrong with the boy? Oh there were many theories, common symptoms, but L knew it was something else. He was starting to suspect that the changes Light was undergoing - the weight loss, depression, nausea, exhaustion – perhaps it all was due to either having been Kira or having been controlled by him. But then why had Misa not shown similar symptoms? Yes, her reign as Second Kira started later than the first, but putting that into consideration would still have Misa showing some form of change.

He glanced into the mirror as he dressed and saw clearly the mark at his neck where Light had bitten him. Now what in the world would posses even Kira to bite him? He stepped closer in order to examine the wound and found it to be very curious. With a small frown and a little tilt of his head, L ran over the theories crowding his mind.

"Where is Yagami-kun?"

His voice sounded oddly loud in the silence, as though spoken to an empty room. Watari was standing in the doorway though and so he knew that his words were heard.

"The boy fled"

Well that was somewhat surprising, though it shouldn't be. Perhaps it was the cool, unaffected persona that the boy wrapped himself around that made it strange to consider that he fled. But then Light was still young and only human after all. Kira or not.

"You let him go?"

There was no accusation in the detective's voice, merely a statement of fact. Watari gave a short small nod in answer.

"I had little choice"

Now there was an intriguing statement.

"When you are feeling better, sir, I would like you to have a look at the footage. Perhaps you can explain better than what my eyes perceive to be truth."

The elder man set down the tray he had been bringing in, the soft noise of clinking porcelain revealing some of the contents. L did not have to look to know that it was Earl Grey tea in the pot, with cream and sugar aplenty. In addition though, and much to his delight, was an assortment of candies and chocolate. Exactly what he needed to get back to his feet and his mind running at full capacity.

Watari's formalities revealed the degree of the old man's discomfort. Whether it was the strange events of the evening, or the injury to himself that had his assistant so, L could not yet decide. It was in all probability a mixture of both. It was no secret off course that Watari was somewhat fond of L, in such as a grandfather would look upon the offspring of a favoured child.

L finished his tea and took a handful of the sweets before following Watari, curious as to what had unnerved the elder man so.

* * *

Voices swirled restlessly around him, an ocean of noise that disturbed the tranquillity of the darkness that cradled him. The volume of sound rose to a tumultuous roar before slowly fading into a quiet whisper. The dramatic fluctuation alarmed something within him, sparking the beginnings of a hard battle for consciousness.

Strength was in short supply, but need urged him on. His mind woke slowly, allowing the streams of coherent thought and memory to filter through. It filled him with unease, increasing his struggles.

When at last he felt he had no more strength, his eyes slid open to a world washed in white. Fever burned his skin, pain exploding behind his eyes and throbbing through his temples. His mouth felt inordinately dry, his throat parched. He wished suddenly to return to the darkness, to escape this tortuous state, but the niggling unease allowed him no relief.

His forced his eyes to examine, his head to turn. All around him, walls of white and the distinct cloying taste of sterility. His heart felt uncomfortably heavy as it thudded unceremoniously against his chest, his breath a series of short hasty gasps. He fought for some stability, for an anchor in which to ground him.

Where was he and how did he come to be there?

He remembered the caress of water against his skin, the rich taste of blood on his tongue. What then? Deep impressions of fear and anxiety – the chilling touch of the night wind as he fled. The pain and the exhaustion that had dragged at him. He had planned to flee, to run and to hide – from who?

Pitiless black eyes set within a pale lean face. Watching him, gauging and testing. Anger and hate spread it's cold fingers around his heart – surprising him. Where did such intense loathing find it's source and what fed it?

_L_

_L..L…L…L_

That simple letter flittered tauntingly through his find, gleeful and mischievous, delighting in his misery.

A soft hiss of noise drew his attention outward, the ominous echo of footfalls drawing ever nearer. Turning he found two pairs of eyes watching him. Clear blue – inquiring but impersonal. Black – flat and empty and pitiless in their intensity.

A flood of relief and fear – two desperate emotions twisting and warring within his gut.

Where was he?

_L…L..L._

Blue eyes was speaking, a dull drone, meaningless to his ears. All he could concentrate on was those dark eyes and the intoxicating scent of their owner. Familiar and dangerous, and oh so very much alive.

L

His breathing hitched when he came to a new realisation. He could not move. He flexed his hand but could not move his arm – he wanted to reach out. With restrained panic he made the effort to glance down his body. Thick black bindings bound his arms to his side, his body to the bed.

Anger stole what was left of his breath, a snarl ripping from between clenched teeth. But it faded. The anger detached itself, spreading through his body but casting his mind back into the darkness. He sensed more than felt hands on his body – hard and cold, before he lost all grips on reality and returned to the peaceful tranquillity of sleep.

L watched it all, the empty brown eyes filled with something akin to animalistic fear and rage and flickering with the fading vestiges of intelligence and the teen he had come to know so well. He watched too, as those eyes closed and the body relaxed into unconsciousness and for a moment mourned the loss of something he could not name.

Here was Light Yagami - bright, intelligent and prideful teen - immobilised and bound.

He had not seriously thought to find the boy in his room – merely the traces and clues that Light had indeed fled. Instead, collapsed and dangerously chilled, they had come upon Light where the boy had passed out. The tension that had taken him since that moment had yet to leave him, even three days hence that strange and eventful night.

Kira was still killing, but Light's story was deeply interwoven – this L knew. How it all fit and just exactly what that story was – that is what he had to uncover. Reveal the entirety of Light's thread within this mess of events and they would catch Kira.

Watching the fallen form of his comrade and tentative 'friend' – L felt no satisfaction. Only a curious sense of emptiness that dulled his senses, until even his beloved cake was but a mouthful of sand.

* * *

**AN: My apologies for the delay. The amount of reviews I received the last chapter was delightful, and my sincere thanks to each one who took the time to let me know what they thought – and for each little encouragement. I don't know when the next chapter will come, but be patient – this story is not over yet!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Perching on a chair, nerves alight with an expectant energy, L waited. Watari was busy at the controls, redirecting feeds and calling up the recordings, his shoulders tense. Those that met L in person would say that it was hard to affect him, to unnerve him or excite in him any strong feelings. L was of the opinion that they simply did not take note of his assistant, or they would redirect their opinions elsewhere._

_Watari was an unshakeable rock in the foundations that made up L's life. L had seen much, been through much and discovered even more. No matter the dangers, the surprises - his actions or opinion; Watari never once faltered. He simply did what needed to be done or was requested of him. He handled pressure with an enviable calm and patience that was not part of L's own make-up. This is perhaps what made him such a good assistant and spokesperson._

_Even in the face of the revelation of the existence of Shinigami, Watari had never once wavered. So L was understandably curious at the obvious tension, the troubled expression on the aged face. Curious and impatient._

_At last Watari stepped back, watching L. L's eyes did not leave the screen for a moment and was unaware of the surprise mirrored in his face. He watched the recording twice again after that, first to assure himself that he had not seen wrongly and after that to examine in detail. At last he turned to his assistant, eyes wide and unfathomable._

_"I believe it is imperative that we find Light-kun. Send a team to the Yagami residence as soon as can be arranged. If he has fled, he might have left a clue as to where he intends to run. I believe his father would like to be made aware of his son's disappearance as well."_

_L turned from Watari then and left - his mind in an uncommon mess. _

_____

_"Kira"_

His sleep was haunted with unintelligible and severely fragmented memories. Little jabs of consciousness - internal knowledge that fought to the surface in the muddled state of his mind. Through out it all, he heard the name called and tried to shrink away from the sound. Caught in a rip tide of accusation that he could not escape.

_"Kira"_

Leave me be. I am not Kira…I'm not him…I'm not…

_"Wake-up, Kira. It's not finished yet"_

A sudden mental assault of thoughts and memories rushed through the darkness and into startling and frightening clarity. Fragments that pushed and jostled for his attention, sliding through his mind's eye and attaching itself to memories that had been incomplete.

As though pulled from a nightmare, his mind jumped from deep sleep into wakefulness, his eyes wide and startled, his breathing quick and loud. He scanned the room he was confined in for the owner of that voice, that horribly familiar voice, but found himself to be very much alone.

With the newly recovered memories came a terrible knowledge and a deep simmering anger. Light had protested his innocence wholeheartedly for months; unable to grasp why the dark haired detective would not believe him. Why he insisted that Light was guilty, despite obviously false pretences that they were friends. Light had looked forward to the day that he would be able to prove L wrong, that his suspicions had been unfounded and foolish. But L had been right; he had seen what Light in his naivety could not. Light was Kira, and the truth of it pissed him off.

Two mindsets battled for prominence, struggling for his control. But Light's innocence had already taken a mortal blow, his naivete and good intentions fading in the onslaught of bitter anger and relentless ambition. With cold, calculating eyes, he looked about him with a renewed intensity. His cage, a small bare medical room by the look of it, with but a bed as furnishings. Simple, cold and entirely indifferent.

This was no ordinary medical facility - any moron could tell. This meant that it was L's doing, a private place where the detective's actions could not be questioned whether good or bad. A setting completely under L's control. Did his father know of this? For that matter, was Light being kept here due to unforeseen proof that had been uncovered while he had been indisposed? It was true that L was unlikely to be very accommodating after his flight from an almost 'murder', but to isolate him, freed from that damned chain, did not seem entirely L's way of doing things unless he knew more than he let on.

Kira knew not the date and so could not tell how long he had been here, or how long ago he had foolishly bitten his archenemy. His response had been one of idiocy, a shadow of the fear that had gripped him when he first learned the incredible truth that the Death Note was real. The response of a weak-willed creature.

His mind grabbed at the thought and began analysing a very important detail. How was it that his memories had returned to him? According to the rules, if Ryuk had not simply played him a fool, he would not be able to remember the Death Note and all associated memories unless he touched the book or a part thereof. Looking around he saw no sign of book or paper - nothing to reveal to him how the rule had been played.

Neither of the Shinigami showed themselves either, a further mystery on which to dwell. Tentatively Light pushed himself up into a sitting position, relieved when he met no resistance. Glancing down he found the straps that had bound him dangled uselessly from the side of the bed, showing no signs of being forced. So he was allowed to move freely then.

He cast his eyes to the ceiling and was unsurprised at the cameras that stared down at him. Someone was watching - L perhaps? Had they seen anything that would cast the suspicion on him in stone? A door handle turned, drawing Light's attention. The door swung slowly inward, revealing a most curious form.

Light did not know how to react. Should he laugh at the ludicrousness of it all? Or be deeply insulted or even fearful?

The figure that walked in was covered from head to toe in a white suit that hid all identifying aspects. There was no way to see the face or even identify whether it was male or female. The suit looked better suited for a mission in space than whatever this place was, and he highly doubted that he was in space. It looked quite ridiculous from the get-go. Two theories began to form in his mind as he observed his visitor.

The ambiguousness imposed by the suit implicated a defensive tactic used when dealing with Kira - only much more pretentious. Were they trying to disconcert him with such a showy tactic? To make him panic at the conclusion that he had been captured and was now simply a lab rat for the purposes of dissecting? Not worthy of even trial, but to suffer in silence whatever torment they felt he deserved. Perhaps it was to give him the insecurity of being alienated, considered less than human - unnatural? That was one theory, one that he inwardly snarled at.

Secondly, judging by the suit's appearance, Light was under the impression of being contained - quarantined. As though he was diseased and dangerous. Did they imagine Kira to be infectious? A low strangled chuckle escaped him, cut off quickly with a tightening of his lips. It was no time for his emotions or thoughts to reveal themselves unbidden. Or did this have anything to do with Kira at all? He recalled the symptoms he had been suffering the last month or so. Was this a true medical quarantine for some dangerous infection or disease? Light did not like this idea; he had always taken great care to keep himself healthy.

The figure had paused at the strangled sound of his amusement, the trolley that it had been pushing groaning into silence. After a breaths moment in which neither moved, the trolley squealed back to life and was pushed to the centre of the room. Letting his eyes drift over the contents, he found it to be laden with food, a persisting pinch in his stomach reminding him of its lack of sustenance at the sight. The figure retreated quickly after that, the long strides and the gait giving Light an indication of being male.

He followed the 'man' with his eyes until the white door swung shut after his departure. Only then did he stand from the bed and walk over to the trolley. He looked at the food critically, and found none to be particularly appetising. He was also somewhat distrustful of any medicines or drugs that may have been put in the food and so he took only the glass of water and retreated to the bed. He would not even have taken that had his throat not been parched.

Seated once more, he returned his thoughts to his situation. He thought of the changes he had undergone over the last couple of months, the curious symptoms that did not always seem to match. A small shiver ran down his spine at that implication. Was he sick?

There was nothing in the Death Note that warned of any physically adverse effects to using the book, but then the rules would probably be different between human and shinigami. Ryuk had mentioned that he would suffer the fear and the stress of using it - was that the cause? Light had never really been excessively stressed or fearful as a consequence of using the Death Note. It was more a challenge that engaged him mentally, an unparalleled euphoric rush that came from having such incredible power.

Maybe it had nothing to do with Kira and Death Notes at all.

Glancing around the room once more, Light settled himself more comfortably on the hospital bed. Sipping the water slowly, Light resigned himself to a long wait. Without knowing what exactly he was here for, he could not guess at a strategy they would use. The man that had brought the food had certainly not stayed long - minimal contact.

They would come eventually, this he knew, and Light was a patient man.

---

_Little flickers of colour and light scattered and moved randomly in the streets below, representations of the feeble and insignificant lives of humans. Pinching forefinger and thumb, one little light was blotted from his view- a grim reality of the frailty of life. With a sigh he dropped his hand back to his side. He considered his reflection within the window, the curves of flesh and bone that was half shrouded in shadow._

_He was mortal, as all humans were. It was an easy thing to forget at times. But mortality had never quite had the meaning then as it had now. He frowned, turning his gaze back down past his toes, beyond the glass wall and to the activity below. He often watched like this, separated from society. It is what reminded him that all people were the same, insignificant in the large scheme of things. Little lights without any true purpose of direction, motivated by common factors and susceptible to the same flaws and pitfalls that were a part of humanity. It was the source of his conviction that all criminals could be caught._

_Perhaps he had distanced himself too much, stepping back from society to an extent that he no longer considered himself one of them. His gaze flickered briefly to the sky. He wondered whether there was someone looking down from an even higher point of view and how he appeared to them. Regardless, when it came down to it, he too was one of those lights. This acknowledgement was what separated him from Kira, but it was Kira that reminded him of his own mortality._

_It was Light that made him question it though._

_A nail split between his teeth, withdrawing his hand only long enough to examine the damage before the thumb was at his lips once more._

_Everything in this world was mortal and he had never felt it of any gain to consider the possibility of things outside of nature that defied this existence. He had not believed in the supernatural until the coming of Kira. But what was Kira? Was he truly the mortal child that had gained impossible power, or was he truly something that defied a scientific existence? Oh the signs were there, and now that he had an idea of what they meant, he found himself struggling to accept it._

_Light was Kira. He had always known this, though there were times of doubt, but the form of revelation was very unexpected. Inconceivable and utterly ridiculous had he not seen it. Still he was almost loathed to the term, to the name and all it encompassed._

_Vampire_

_His nose wrinkled in irritation. Had he spoken the word he might have spat it instead. The vampire - a creature of superstition and myth. A creature created from ignorance and cast into a mould that was meant to entertain the masses. But it was the closest thing that could describe the changes Light had undergone._

_Vampirism would explain the increased nocturnal activity and the subsequent slump in energy levels during the day. The loss of appetite in concern to human food, and most of all it would explain the biting. But all of these things could have a perfectly normal explanation. No, physical evidence existed to prove that Light was anything but 'normal'. That night that Light had fled after biting L, the boy had shown an incredible feat in running faster than was humanly possible. The video footage recorded had to be slowed down considerably in order to even identify that a being was passing through the corridors, with just enough detail to identify that it was indeed Light Yagami._

_His fingers brushed gently over the healing wound at his neck, frowning at the shiver that coursed through him. He let his arm drop to his side and slowly withdrew into the shadows. The mystery that was Light and Kira had taken on a whole different level, and he was intent on unravelling it._

_---_

Kira's eyes fluttered open, awareness of the door opening pulling him from the light slumber he had fallen to. He sat up slowly, the hunger in his gut stealing his energy and strength. He turned his head to find none other than L striding towards him purposefully. He cast his eyes over the figure, from the stone cast of the pale face down to the faded blue of his jeans and pale toes. The detective looked no different to the last time he had seen him, whenever that may have been.

As L drew nearer, so was Lights senses awakened to a delicious scent that hung around the elder one like a shroud. It was a mixture warmth and spice; an almost cloying sweetness that brought with it a memory of a night past. A night that he very much wished he could forget. He moved back slightly as L and his scent drew near and almost overpowering. His mouth was salivating at the scent in a way that food had not, despite his increasing hunger.

L noticed the move and paused at a discrete distance. Kira could read nothing in the other's face as they stared at each other.

"Kira"

Light repressed the urge to flinch at the sound of his enemy's voice. The vibrations tickled over his skin in a very unfamiliar and less than pleasant way. When had he grown so sensitive to the man's voice, his scent? His shoulders had tensed, his jaw clenched as hunger dealt him another heavy blow, excited by the delectable smell of the one other in the room. His mere presence was driving Light's senses wild with temptation.

By no conscious decision had he taken note of the steady thrum of L's heart beat, the blood pulsing through his veins. He did make an effort not to dwell on the night he had managed to taste that sweet life giving nectar, else he may lose all self-control and kill the man. That would certainly not help his case any. His control was a hard thing to grasp given his urges, and looking at L, Kira knew it had cost him.

L was staring at him with a cold calculation, watching his reactions and evaluating them. Distantly Light realised that he had never made any form of denial at being named Kira. Well, that was no good and it was too late to do anything about it now. At least he now knew that this was indeed very much to do with Kira.

"L"

At last he had managed to spit out the word as congenial and calm as he could manage. He chose to ignore the strain in his voice when he delivered it.

"How are you feeling?"

Light frowned at the ridiculous question with no small amount of suspicion. L was not one for small talk and never asked a question he did not expect some answer for. That meant that L wanted to know how he felt and considering the setting, Light did not feel comfortable telling him. That this was a form of experimentation ate at him and so he kept his mouth shut. He was not going to play the good little lab rat.

They stared at each other in silence for a good five minutes, in which Light realised he had never seen L stand as straight as he was doing then. The detective did not fidget, had no form of sugar on his person and made no derogatory remarks. He even refrained from nail biting. It was a side of the detective he had never seen before and it made him realise that he had only ever seen what the detective had wanted him to see. L had made himself to be almost comical, a move that invited complacency and a subconscious tendency to underestimate him.

Knowing that L was not going to relent or give up until he had an answer, Light let out a small exasperated sigh, he eyes trained on the detectives own.

"Fine"

L's lips quirked up at the corners briefly, as though he had expected and found amusement from Light's answer. It was gone before fully formed. L's eyes did not leave his.

"I find that hard to believe, Kira-kun. Surely you must be hungry. You have not eaten anything for days now. Any normal person would be less than 'fine'."

Light did not answer, only glared at the curious face L now sported. The expression was fake, Light could tell, a poor attempt by the detective to express normalcy. Light was not amused.

"Do you find the food unsatisfactory?"

So L was here for an interrogation then.

"Hospital grade food is not quite to my tastes"

L nodded, seeing the sense of his words. The black eyes grew shrewd and intent. Having been staring at L for the entirety of this uncomfortable one-way conversation, Light distantly noted that L's eyes were actually a dusky grey. A fact that was hidden by the obvious signs of his insomniac nature. Light pulled his thoughts back on track with impatience; the colour of L's eyes was unimportant.

"What is to your tastes, then, Kira?"

The manner of asking and the intent look on L's face made Light aware that his answer to this question was of importance. Why? He looked back on the foods that had been brought to him since he had woken to this room. It had offered, each time, an assortment of foods. Fruits and vegetables, meat and fish. Soups and sandwiches. Rice and all it's associated dishes and variations. Pastries and sweet things. By no means all the foods available, but enough that he could not quite recall what food he did actually like. In none of the selections offered to him had he felt any desire to eat, nor did it make him wish for something that was not there. He had simply discarded all the food as inedible and undesirable.

He looked back at the detective, having rested his gaze at the floor while he had thought. He had no answer, but that did not quite seem to matter to L. Someone must have been watching, as the door opened at a signal from L. The same ridiculous white suited figure brought in a tray, bearing only a metal cup that was lidded, and placed it on the floor at the centre of he room. The figure retreated again quickly and was gone.

Light could not tell what was in the cup due to the lid, no scent to give him even an idea. Instinctively he rejected it as suspicious and turned to ask L what the hell it was, but the detective was striding towards the door. L paused briefly and turned to him.

"Drink it, you may find that you like it. It will not do to have you starve after all."

With those words, Light was alone in his room once more. Despite L's advice, he made no move to take the cup or drink it's contents. He sat brooding for what must have been hours, but no one ever came to retrieve the untouched cup. A pang of hunger eventually made it hard to think and brood, and so his attention shifted to the cup. No other food was brought, so they must have been serious about wanting him to drink it. That only made him more suspicious, and so he lay down on the bed and turned his back to the door.

With little to distract his thoughts and unable to sleep, his thought returned to the cup. He damned his curiosity thrice over before he rose in defeat. Swinging his legs off the bed, Light stood tentatively. Standing up right made him feel light headed and weak, hence why he had been avoiding it the last couple of days, or what he assumed to be days. Now he ignored it and shuffled slowly towards the tray. He reached down slowly and lifted the cup, the cool metal burning his hands. If the contents had ever been hot, it sure wasn't so anymore.

As with every time before, he returned to the bed before drinking. Looking at it, he saw that the lid could not be removed, but if he turned it, an opening from which to drink appeared. As soon as he did just that, a sweet albeit slightly stale scent rose up to meet him. His eyes closed involuntarily and his stomach rumbled restlessly in hunger. His mouth was salivating at the taste and so he lifted the cup to his lips and tipped it back. The liquid was sweet and deeply satisfying, and in his hunger he gulped it down eagerly. Too soon the cup ran empty, leaving Light still somewhat unsatisfied, but feeling stronger already.

A pleasant calm settled over him, as though the concoction had lubricated joints and aches he had not been aware he had. He placed the cup on the floor next to his bed and lay down feeling fuller and more content than he had for a long time now. Enough so that sleep was able to claim him quickly.

Beyond his room, surrounded by technical equipment and computers, L watched it all. He observed the healthy flush that lightly stained cheeks that had been devoid of colour for so long now. He watched as the boys tense form relaxed into a more natural slumber than had been adopted past. And most of all he could not help but see the blood stained lips that appeared so vivid in the colourless surroundings. His hands had clenched into fists, his face pulled into a frown of distaste. The obvious pleasure Kira had found in drinking the blood had caused his normally stoic stomach to roll nauseatingly. It was unnatural.

It was inhuman.

**TBC.**

**A/N: After a very long absence, I finally got myself to finish this chapter. I had most of it written and only needed to finish it off ages ago, but I only got round to it now. This is by far the longest chapter I have written (minus author comments too), and I am so very sorry for the inevitable grammar problems that will appear. I think that this chapter may come off as a filler, but it is important, and the next chapter should have a bit more action to offer you. When it will come out, I cannot say. Doppelganger's bet is next on my list for updating. Again, thank you for the reviews! It is nice to see people enjoy what I write.**


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